


never enough time

by delta_capricorni



Series: Nonbinary Byleth Week [7]
Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Alternate Universe, Nonbinary Byleth Week (Fire Emblem), Nonbinary My Unit | Byleth, Time Travel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-11
Updated: 2020-11-11
Packaged: 2021-03-09 22:54:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,040
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27514147
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/delta_capricorni/pseuds/delta_capricorni
Summary: Lysithea turns back the hands of time.
Relationships: My Unit | Byleth & Lysithea von Ordelia
Series: Nonbinary Byleth Week [7]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2002213
Comments: 5
Kudos: 10





	never enough time

Lysithea woke up to find herself alone in the library. Her candle, fresh when she’d first lit it and began to study, was now just on the cusp of burning out, so she must’ve been asleep for almost an hour.

“Dammit,” she muttered, balling her hand into a fist, “I can’t be wasting time like this.” The Golden Deer were to set out for their next mission at the break of dawn, and if her calculations were correct, she only had another four hours to master Dark Spikes T and be of use to her classmates on the battlefield.

The door to the library creaked open, and in her sleepy daze she barely registered Byleth’s concerned expression. “Lysithea? You should be sleeping right now.”

“No, Professor, I’m really busy right now,” she tried to sound convincing, though she couldn’t help rubbing at her eyes. “I promise I’ll go lie down after I finish this tome. Does that satisfy you?”

“Very well.” Instead of leaving like she’d hoped they would, her professor made themself comfortable at a table in the opposite corner. They began flipping through a thoroughly earmarked book that had been left on the chair—since Tomas disappeared the library had fallen somewhat into disarray—and seemed to settle for this fascinating read. Lysithea sighed. This wasn’t the first time they’d refused to budge until they could ascertain that she did eventually leave the library for her bedroom. At least they were quiet.

-

The Golden Deer arrived at the foot of a village on fire, the wretched miasma of burnt flesh flooding the air. Jeralt and Byleth were alarmed, an expression foreign to the students, and they stirred uneasily as they watched the pair survey the village whose hospitality they only recently sought refuge in.

A shrill, bone-chilling laugh pierced the air. All turned toward a raised hill looming over the dense vegetation directly ahead of them. At its peak sat Tomas, their missing librarian. The Golden Deer began to wade into the underbrush to rescue him, but as soon as he caught sight of them, he raised his arms toward the heavens. In one swift movement, he summoned a black flash of lightning, decimating the sections of the village immediately adjacent to him and transforming himself into a disgusting creature, with a bulbous head, black sclera, and skin pale as death itself. Tomas, now Solon, cackled with glee.

“Claude, Hilda, Marianne, come with me to fight Solon,” Jeralt commanded. “Ignatz, Raphael, Lorenz, and Leonie, round up any villagers that haven’t turned into zombies yet. Byleth, secure the perimeter; we don’t know how many allies Solon has lying in wait. Lysithea, you be their backup.”

“Yes, sir!” all shouted. The Golden Deer scattered across the burning village.

Lysithea closely trailed the professor, hands twitching with dark magic as she struggled to control her mana precisely enough to evoke Dark Spikes T. A fireball here, a slash of the sword there; she and Byleth would probably be fine. Claude and the others, on the other hand, seemed to be faring much worse, as they were continually beaten off the hill by flashes of dark lightning and hordes of zombies.

Sensing this too, Byleth began making their way toward the hill, but out of the corner of Lysithea’s eye she caught sight of the glint of black metal, soon accompanied by the sound of pounding hooves.

The Death Knight and his hellish steed sailed over a ledge and alighted in front of Byleth, halting them in their path. Lysithea realized Dark Spikes T would be perfect for taking him down, but as she began to concentrate dark energy in her hands, the infernal warrior caught sight of her, and began charging straight for her instead. “C’mon, just work already…” she begged through gritted teeth, but her body was too frail, she was too weak to produce the right magic at the right time. And now he was right—

“Lysithea!” Byleth shouted, stepping straight into the path of the Death Knight. They raised the Sword of the Creator, but there was no time to whip it out and stop the Death Knight in his tracks as he swiftly readjusted to make use of the full length of his own lance. He urged his steed onward, faster—

“Professor! No!!” she screamed, but it was too late. The last things she heard were the uproarious laughter of the Death Knight, the horrible sound of metal grinding through flesh and bone, and the tear of fabric as the lance pierced through Byleth, straight as an arrow, and burrowed its tip in Lysithea’s flesh, squarely between her collarbones. The sight of blood and stench of death caused her to black out.

-

Lysithea woke up to find herself alone in the library. Her candle, fresh when she’d first lit it and began to study, was now just on the cusp of burning out, so she must’ve been asleep for almost an hour.

“Dammit,” she muttered, balling her hand into a fist, “I... Wait a moment. Wait just a moment.”

She glanced around expectantly. Yes, she was in the library. Why was she surprised to find herself here?

The door to the library creaked open, and in her sleepy daze she barely registered Byleth’s concerned expression. “Lysithea? You should be sleeping right now.”

“Professor! You’re alive!” She didn’t understand why these words slipped out, or why they made so much sense to her. But as her eyes scanned their body up and down, fuzzy memories slowly returned.

They tilted their head quizzically. “That I am. But you, you should be sleeping right now.”

Byleth was alive. There was no gaping hole in their chest where the Death Knight’s lance impaled them. In fact, Lysithea realized, they hadn’t even left for the mission yet. They were in the library before dawn.

Lysithea had no idea what had happened—was it the past, or the future?—but she had to do something.

-

This time, before they even set foot in Remire Village, Lysithea sidled up to Claude’s side.

“Hey, what’s got you so nervous and shaking? You’re like a little kid! Oh wait.” Claude smirked devilishly. He was completely unaware of the horrors they were about to witness at Remire.

But Lysithea was. “Claude, I’m going to need your help,” she responded, as levelly as possible. “When we get to the village, I want you to stay with me and Byleth, even if Captain Jeralt says otherwise.”

“Huh? Why’s that?” Claude was more confused that she’d completely ignored his taunt.

“You’ll see when you get there. Please, Claude. I just need you to trust me on this one.”

Realizing how serious she was, he asked no further questions. “You can count on me.”

And when, true to her faint memory, the Death Knight exploded out from the sidelines, this time he was caught off-guard with an arrow straight to the forehead. He retreated quickly, without another sound.

“Wow, Lysithea. How did you know he was coming?” Claude asked, genuinely impressed.

But Lysithea only shook her head. She didn’t know nearly enough about what had transpired just hours earlier, and she wasn’t willing to share with him what little information she had. “Just a gut feeling,” she explained, and Claude was experienced enough with surviving off of gut feelings to shrug it off.

For now, they had Solon to defeat. And Lysithea was content, too, knowing that she’d protected Byleth.

-

A week after the mission, everyone was still quite shaken by what they’d witnessed at Remire. Even so, the monastery was hoping to prepare for its annual ball, and soon enough the students were buzzing with excitement. Most of them, anyway—Lysithea had taken up her perch in the library as usual.

“You’re not going to participate in the festivities?” Ignatz asked innocently, remaining in the doorway when he found her huddled over magic tomes one afternoon.

“Aren’t the ‘festivities’ limited to one single day, that is, the night of the ball?” she retorted. “I don’t see why everyone’s running around like headless chickens. I barely even have time to go to the ball itself.”

Seeing no point in arguing, Ignatz replied, “Suit yourself.” He decided to leave her to her studies and climbed up one of the library ladders. As he strained to reach a book, without warning it began to tilt.

“Aaaahhh!!”

“Ignatz!” Lysithea cried out. She reached a hand toward him, knowing fully well it would be too late to—

-

“You’re not going to participate in the festivities?” Ignatz asked innocently, remaining in the doorway.

“Huh?” Lysithea said stupidly. But it was more directed toward, well, everything, rather than at Ignatz.

“The festivities!” Ignatz beamed, pleased to not have been immediately shot down. “The whole monastery’s been preparing for the ball! Which, I know, is technically only one night, but that doesn’t mean we can’t start celebrating early. Raphael’s been trying to bake pies, Hilda’s been decorating…”

As he rambled on, the realization of what had happened, just now and a week ago at Remire, began to dawn on Lysithea. She was the only one who remembered what had happened in both cases. And, she began to strategize, if she could study, and then rewind time so that she’d never lost time studying…

“I’ll go.”

“…What?”

“I said, I’ll go. I’ll go participate in whatever silly festivities you’re talking about.”

“Wait, but aren’t you really busy—”

“Shut up, Ignatz, don’t make me say it twice!” Lysithea slammed her books shut, more out of joy than anger, though it still made Ignatz startle. “Take me to where everyone’s having fun. I… I’ll make time.”

Ignatz was now grinning widely. “Oh, wonderful! I’m so glad to hear! Just let me get one book, and—”

“Don’t trouble yourself. Is it this one?” And with levitation magic she deftly plucked, from the tallest shelf, the book she remembered Ignatz previously falling to his demise for just minutes ago.

He was even more shocked when it fell neatly into his hands. “How did you know? You’re amazing!”

“I know I am,” she smiled sweetly. “Now, let’s go have fun already!”

-

Lysithea could not recall a time in her life when she felt this happy. Sure, the young mage was pleased to be able to study to her content—she was certain she’d master Dark Spikes T any day now—but more importantly, for the very first time in her life, she was unafraid to spend time doing things just because. No longer did she fear wasting time on the pier learning from Leonie how to wait very patiently and very quietly for the biggest catch possible; no longer was she discontent to sit in Hilda’s room as she had all sorts of makeup and hair products applied lovingly to her; no longer did she rush through cooking meals to everyone’s displeasure, even eliciting compliments from the voracious Raphael for the food quality. Marianne became keener to invite her along to visiting Dorte in the stable, and Ignatz shared with her his insight into landscape paintings and portraits. She even surprised Lorenz by asking him to tea, not the other way ‘round, and was excited to hear his stories of studying at the School of Sorcery in Fhirdiad.

Lysithea was finally living life, one day at a time. Or so she thought.

She had lost track of how many times she’d rewound time when suddenly, on her way to meeting with the professor for dinner, she keeled over in her bedroom, atop the clothing she’d picked out but later decided weren’t to her liking. She was having trouble breathing, and panic gripped her too tightly for her to take deep, calming breaths. What was happening? Were her Crests destroying her, finally? But this was much sooner than she’d been led to anticipate. Had she been wrong about buying time for herself?

Slowly but surely, the pain abated. She crawled to an upright position, still on the floor, and wrapped herself in her dresses and pajamas littered on the ground. Examining her body and drawing out basic healing magic, she seemed to be intact externally and internally. So where had the pain come from…?

“Ack! I’m going to be late to dinner!” Lysithea scrambled to her feet, boosted by adrenaline and unaware of the exhaustion creeping up on her body, and hastily scurried over to the dining hall.

-

Until these past few weeks, Lysithea really had seen no reason to get to know Byleth. Sure, they had a lifetime of combat experience and showed a rare natural affinity for light magic, but otherwise their expressionless demeanor and mediocre teaching ability failed to make much of an impression on her. But now that she had all the time in the world, she figured that she wanted in on the person whom all her classmates seemed to constantly gush about, whether they were aware of it or not.

And over the past few weeks, Lysithea found herself increasingly entranced by her professor. She couldn’t quite pin down exactly what it was that drew her to them. Once she was able to get them to say more than monosyllabic sentences, she found them to be quite charming in their own way, a foil to Captain Jeralt’s rugged charisma. And although they had the rarest of Crests, that fact no longer served as an omnipresent reminder of her painful past. Byleth was an ambiguous figure to the core, especially in terms of their gender. It was exactly in this respect that Lysithea found that she was able to relate to Byleth in a refreshingly new sense. They both resisted social expectations: for in the same way that most people thought of both Crests and gender as an either/or binary, she had two and Byleth had neither.

Just as she’d lost track of how often she’d turn back time, she also couldn’t remember how many meals in a row now that she was sharing with Byleth. But she didn’t care to count, and of course they weren’t about to notice. Lysithea could talk about anything she wanted, forever and ever. And she didn’t mind listening to the same old stories of mercenary life from Byleth, again and again. Lysithea thought she would be content to live each day, hanging with her friends and Byleth, just like this. That is, until today.

“Lysithea, please be honest with me.” Byleth looked her straight in the eye, food untouched.

“I have been! What do you mean?” Lysithea replied, though something deep down began to stir. “If you’re asking about the prank we played on you the other day… it was all Claude’s idea, I swear!”

Their face didn’t change from its grave expression, however. Without missing a beat, they asked, “Are you turning back the hands of time? Because if so… I have to ask you to stop. It’s dangerous for you.”

Lysithea’s heart seemed to stop. How did they know…? In a panic, she did exactly that, exactly what Byleth said not to. She rewound time, propelling herself back, back, wait, too far, too far back—

-

She landed in the library in the dead of night, but this time she found herself sprawled out on the floor, coughing up blood. She could only clutch weakly at the sharp pain in her side. “What is… why am I…”

“Little human! What exactly is it that do you plan on doing, lying on the floor like that?”

A strange young girl was floating just out of reach. Her dress was far more ornamental than even the most regal of Archbishop Rhea’s ceremonial dresses, and her deep green hair nearly dusted the floor.

Without waiting for an answer, she continued rambling, moreso to herself. “Hmm… I have a feeling that this is not where I should be. And I have a very peculiar feeling about you. Why do you have two crests? They are depleting your lifeforce as we speak. And for every instance of you rewinding time, it seems like they devour ever more of your soul. You should be cautious about turning back time too often—"

“Who are you?” Lysithea yelped as a needle of pain seemed to pierce through her chest, right between her collarbones. “Are you… are you a ghost? Am I dead? Or going to die? Or—”

“A ghost?! Excuse me, I am a _goddess_.” To demonstrate she spun in a lazy circle and hovered closer to the ceiling, before alighting upon the hardwood floor without so much a sound. “At least, I think I am.”

“A goddess, huh? Is this some kind of a joke?” Lysithea scoffed, but her mind was too addled with pain to argue further. “Well, if you’re an important deity or whatever, you’ve got to have a name, right?”

“Yes, of course! It’s… give me a moment… Err… Mind telling me yours while I figure that out?”

Lysithea would’ve rolled her eyes, if not for a splitting headache to match her bodily pain. “It’s Lysithea.”

“Oh! I am Sothis. Yes, that sounds about right. I suppose the similar consonance helped me remember!”

As Sothis tested out her name Lysithea struggled onto a chair, gasping for breath as she grabbed onto the corner of the table for dear life. She found herself at eye level with the chair next to her and realized this was the table that Byleth would choose each time she relived this library experience. The earmarked book sat enticingly on the seat. Lysithea hesitantly reached over and sifted slowly through the pages.

It was a book on the legends of Sothis. A full-color drawing featured the same painting that adorned the cathedral’s ceiling: a benevolent woman, eyes closed in meditation, guarding over earthly beings.

“Wait. You expect me to believe that you’re _the_ Progenitor God? You’re just a little girl!”

Sothis puffed out her cheeks. “Look who’s talking! Aren’t you a bit young yourself to be at this school?”

Before she could muster the energy to bite back, she heard footsteps echoing from the hallway. Lysithea realized it was Byleth on their way to check on her. But she refused to let them find her, not in this state.

“Okay, so you’re a goddess, or something. Can you, like, teleport me out of here?”

“Teleport? Um, I don’t know, but that doesn’t sound like a part of my repertoire—”

“Figure it out, then!” Lysithea rapidly flipped through the book earmarks, and, thank the goddess, she landed on a legend of the goddess’s ability to instantly zip across the ancient civilization of Nabatea.

Sothis peered over Lysithea’s shoulder. “Well, if this legend says I did, then I guess I can do it if I try hard enough! Where to, then? Your bedroom, I’m guessing? Lead the way then, little Lysithea!”

“And when we get there,” Lysithea panted, wiping excess blood dripping from the side of her mouth, “you’re going to explain to me everything you know about all this time rewinding stuff. Got it?”

“Yeah, yeah. Now hold on tight!”

The door to the library creaked open, but Byleth found nobody there. In the darkness, they failed to notice the puddles of blood speckling the floors and books of the library.

-

“Are you being completely serious right now?” Lysithea’s pain was replaced by grief. “How could I have been so… so _stupid_? All I wanted was…” She buried her face in her hands, and for the first time since arriving at Garreg Mach, she cried and cried and cried. All that self-induced pressure, all the pleasure she’d experienced in the past odd weeks/days, all of it was for nothing. She was so, so stupid.

The goddess perched delicately at the other end of her bed. “It is imperative that you cease rewinding time from this point onward, if only to preserve what little life energy you have left.”

“You don’t have to tell me that, I’m not _that_ hopeless,” Lysithea bit back, though Sothis was unfazed. “I won’t be seeing you anymore then, is that right? Just… just leave me alone then. I can handle myself.”

“Well, you ought to at least get some sleep while you can,” Sothis replied curtly, though not without a hint of tenderness. “You’re going to have a long day starting in a few hours. I’ll be watching over you.”

As the goddess immaterialized for the last time, Lysithea tucked herself into bed and began to replay the events of the upcoming battle again and again. What could she possibly do to trick the wheels of fate? She could no longer save her professor or her classmates from the lance of the Death Knight. So then…

Lysithea closed her eyes. She decided upon three options, to keep time moving forward and to keep her cherished friends alive with what little time of her own she had left. She had made her choice.

-

The Golden Deer were scattered across the burning village. In her weakened state and overwhelming grief, although she’d resisted being left behind at the monastery, Claude was unconvinced by the lack of strength in her words, and focused on taking down Solon. Now Lysithea had only two plans to depend on. From the east came the Death Knight, barreling through the forest and headed straight for Byleth.

Lysithea gestured with her hands and muttered the ancient incantations exactly as the dark magic tome had instructed, but aside from a few tepid sparks nothing happened. Her body was too frail. She cursed under her breath, even though she knew this would happen. So there was truly only one thing left to do.

The Death Knight charged. Byleth steeled themself, crouching defensively and unaware of the futility.

Lysithea threw herself in front of Byleth.

As time seemed to slow and her life began to flash before her eyes, she watched that horrible, blood-flecked lance sail toward her, a menace in slow motion. She could barely hear Byleth calling out to her above the maniacal laughter of the Death Knight, but their voice was enough for her to feel at peace.

“…thea! Lysithea? Hey, Lysithea.”

Huh? She opened her eyes, and recoiled in fear as the Death Knight loomed ominously above her… lance suspended mid-air. The burning lights hovering underneath his skull mask were still, like red planets in a dark sky. And as she stumbled backward, she collided with a warm body, one that caught her mid-fall.

“Lysithea, are you alright?”

“Professor!” she gasped. Not only was Byleth alive and breathing, but they were also mobile and calm, in a world that had otherwise been completely suspended in time. “I thought you… I… didn’t he…”

Byleth walked up and came face-to-face with the Death Knight, showing neither arrogance nor disdain. “So it was you. You rewound the hands of time, again and again, beyond what your body could endure.”

Lysithea cast her eyes downward. “I… so you know what this is? …And you’ve talked to Sothis before?”

They nodded solemnly. Abandoning the Death Knight, they began to stroll around the frozen village. “I’m not entirely sure of the details, since technically the event was erased from history. But whereas the objective facts are gone, the subjective feelings—felt by my body, and yours as well—have been carved into our minds and souls. Tell me, Lysithea: was there an event where I died, and you didn’t?”

She took a deep breath, afraid to relive the memory, before answering. “Yes. In the original version of this battle, I failed to cast Dark Spikes T in time, and the Death Knight came charging. But you defended me, and his lance… It pierced through your heart, all the way through. It even struck me at its tip.” Lysithea tugged at the collar of her dress, just barely enough to display the spot between her collarbones where his lance had originally marked her. “It broke my skin, but it didn’t shatter the bone.”

Byleth sounded as if they knew all this already, that Lysithea was reciting a history they already knew, when they continued, “The lance must have speared Sothis, whose essence was embedded in my chest. She was then shattered into pieces, one shard of which became lodged in you. And your extremely powerful emotional reaction to my death kickstarted the process of turning back the hands of time.”

“Wait. Are you implying that you’ve always had the ability to go back in time?” Lysithea’s head was swimming. Sothis, the ancient Progenitor God, inside of her human professor, Byleth? She felt dizzy.

“Not always, but I’ve had it since Sothis awakened in me, shortly before arriving at Garreg Mach.”

“So that little girl really was Sothis… Wait. So right now, you’ve stopped time, then?”

“I have.”

They stopped in front of Jeralt and Claude, ferocious expressions fixed onto their faces, as they launched themselves at Solon. While Byleth seemed pensive, wistful even, Lysithea was busy brainstorming.

Suddenly she lit up, grabbing both their hands in hers. “So then… you can just undo all of this and try again, right? And this time, since it’s you who’s rewinding, you’ll know how to defeat the Death Knight!”

“Yes, but…”

“But what?!” she cried out, exasperated. Her entire body was hurting all over, as if her dark magic flames were consuming her from within. “We don’t have time to spare! Let’s get this over with already!”

Byleth gently removed their hands from Lysithea’s, shaking their head slowly. “You relived a lot of time, didn’t you? I can feel the traces of those memories in my soul. I can feel the remnants of your joy.”

She found herself blushing as she childishly snapped, “Yeah? So what?”

They had a faraway look in their eyes. “When I rewind time, you’ll forget it all. Not just new information you’ve learned, but also all the new memories you’ve made. …You made a lot of happy memories, didn’t you, Lysithea? With your fellow Golden Deer. Believing that for once, you had all the time in the world.”

The world had already been muted, but the silence that fell over the two of them was deafening. Lysithea began quivering, struggling with all her might to keep herself together as she processed this information. Obviously, logically, rationally it all made sense. That was how time worked, after all. But… those moments when she learned to let go and let loose; when she playfully sparred with Leonie, dipped her bare feet in the pond with Raphael, fed and pet stray cats and dogs with Marianne, painted silly pictures with Ignatz, avoided work and lay on the courtyard grass with Hilda, brewed tea and baked sweets with Lorenz; when she even came around to playing along with Claude’s jokes and teasing him back for once. She was going to lose all of that knowledge, all of those feelings and memories and sense of freedom forever. How could she possibly find the time to relive all of those moments again…?

Byleth’s arms wrapped tightly around her as sobs wracked her petite frame. They tenderly stroked the back of her head, threaded her long white hair through their fingers, rubbed calming circles into her back. In this instant, sealed in time, infinite yet nil, where they were everywhere and nowhere at once, Lysithea never wanted this to end. There just wasn’t enough time to say everything she wanted, to Byleth or to the other Golden Deer. There wasn’t never enough time, she always told herself during what now seemed like the distant past. But right now, in this moment… Now, her heart seemed to say…

Lysithea sniffled and hiccupped. Byleth loosened their grip, only in order to softly wipe away her tears.

“Before you reset everything, Professor, I have one request.” At first, she felt like she didn’t have a choice. Then again, she thought she wouldn’t ever be able to enjoy living life. And she had been wrong.

“Yes?” they whispered. Lysithea’s heart began to pound. If only she could hold on to this feeling forever. If only, she thought, even as she had just been told that she would lose it in just another moment.

“I’m sure it’s going to be difficult… but can you try to make sure that the old Lysithea, the old me, um, spends a little more time with her friends? I just… I can’t stand the thought of never trying to have fun. It’s _because_ my time is limited, rather than in spite of such a fact, that I should be trying to enjoy life.”

Byleth smiled, a sad smile, but one that filled Lysithea with a renewed sense of conviction. “Of course.”

“And… even though I’m going to forget all of this, Professor, and even if I do end up dying young, in the end… Ugh, I know this is going to sound really immature of me, but I… um… friends forever, Professor?”

Now they were really smiling, a wholesome feature that transformed them into the most beautiful being, comparable to even the Progenitor God. “Yes, Lysithea. Friends forever.”

“Okay. Good. I mean, thanks, Professor. I really mean it.” They both stood there awkwardly for a moment, the motionless bodies of their friends and the flames of the village surrounding them.

“…Ready?” Byleth asked, with more hesitation than Lysithea had ever heard in their voice before.

“Wait! One last thing.” She grinned sheepishly. “When you repeat this mission, you have to convince Claude to fight the Death Knight with us. I’m certain we can trust him. Oh and, uh, tell Sothis I said thanks. Even if she doesn’t remember me after you reset everything. You got all that, Professor?”

They laughed softly. “Got it. Thank you, that’s very useful to know. I’ll send your regards to Sothis, too.”

Lysithea hugged Byleth one last time. A young girl, remembering for the first and last time how it was to live life with much love for her friends and without the fear that every day might be her last; and her professor, someone who would give up their life, time after time again and again, to save their student.

“Thank you for spending all this time with me, Professor.”

“We’ll spend more time together in the future, Lysithea, I promise you. But for now: three, two, one…”

**Author's Note:**

> i... wow. this was an adventure, both re: this story & writing for #nonbinarybylethweek in general. i've never written so much fiction in such a short amount of time - i've had a lot goin on in my life over the past year (as i'm sure we all have) but also i never imagined i'd be able to challenge myself like this & produce content that i'm proud to post for the world to see - andbutso here we are. i did it! \o/
> 
> whether this is the first or the last story in this series that you're reading... thank you so much, truly. every kudos & comment really inspires me to write more & write better, and i'm really grateful to have been able to share all these stories w you.
> 
> as claude says, "i fought, and won."


End file.
